


A Warm Embrace

by lonnevox



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 01:23:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2489276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonnevox/pseuds/lonnevox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>England's work just keeps piling up and up, making him stay up till ungodly hours of the morning, trying to finish it. Though, unknown to him, late nights can bring romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Warm Embrace

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: I got this fanfic prompt from the tumblr blog otpprompts. This one's quite shirt because at the time of writing it, I just felt like writing, nothing to big. I would love yo forever if you left me a review. Thanks a bunch
> 
> Prompt: Imagine Person A of your OTP hugging Person B from behind, with no intention of doing anything other than holding them in a warm, loving embrace.

England sighed, placing his pen onto the desk in front of him and leant back. He brought his hand up and ran it through is hair, before leaning back over his desk and stared blankly at his paperwork. His paperwork that kept building up. His paperwork that no matter how much he did, at his office or at home, it did not decrease. 

Looking at the clock that hung above his desk, he realised how late it was. He had hoped he would be able to go to bed earlier because for the past month or so he'd been doing paperwork at ungodly hours of the morning. If France hadn't physically dragged him to bed the past few weeks, he would most likely be a walking zombie. 

Cursing under his breath, he picked up his pen and slowly began to read the text on the page in front of him. At least he tried to anyway. He couldn't concentrate on the words properly and the harder he tried, the less they made sense. He could be reading Dutch for all he knew and it would end in the same outcome. Once again, he dropped his pen and reached his hand across his desk to his cup. Groaning, he placed the cup back down when he realised that there wasn't any tea left in it.

That's what he really wanted. A nice, hot cup of tea. It never failed to aid his concentration levels and give his energy the boost it needed. He thought about getting up and going to make himself one but at that moment in time, it felt like more trouble and energy than it was worth. 

He rubbed his eyes, hoping that, that small movement would help him wake up and concentrate. Picking the same piece of paper back up, he attempted to read what was written on the page. But, of course, it didn't help. The words and sentences didn't make even the slightest of sense to him. He placed the paper back onto the desk and held his head in his hand, tracing the knots in his wooden desk.

England didn't notice his door open and close for he was too deep in thought. He didn't notice the person walking towards him either. He only noticed that another person was in the room was when they loosely wrapped their arms around his neck. England gasped in surprised, quickly swivelling his head around to see who was the one with their arms around his neck. As he did so, he heard the soft sound of laughter.

“What do you want, frog?” England asked harshly as he relaxed his shoulders and glared at France behind him. “I don't have the time to deal with you.”

“Your words wound me, mon cheri.” said France, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“What do you want, frog?” he repeated, glaring daggers at France.

“It's 2:30 in the morning, you know Angleterre. You should go to bed.”

“I can't go to bed. Do you see the stacks of paper on my desk?” England said as he motioned to the stacks of paper sitting on his desk.

“Oui, I see them, but you've been doing them for the past month. You're going to kill yourself at this rate.” France replied, tightening his arms around England which pulled him closer.

“Please do tell me how I'm going to kill myself when I'm a nation that can't die.” England said sarcastically,

“Mon cher... just go to bed, please.” France sighed. “Believe it or not, I do worry about you.” 

England said nothing as he leant back, leaning his head on France's shoulder. He was choosing his words carefully, not wanting to embarrass himself any further then he already had. Bringing his hand up, he gently touched France’s cheek. “I know you do.”

France brought up his hand and lifted England's chin up slightly before placing a chaste kiss on his lips. It was short but sweet and full of emotion. “Je t'aime, Angleterre.”

“I love you too, France.”


End file.
